Poisonous Song
by EYES to LIE
Summary: She loved him, and he loved her. If only it could have been that simple. But as she stands there and sings to him, he knows what she fails to realize. That Black Roses have thorns as well. TarlachxKristell drabble


**After I completed G1, which was ages ago, I got struck by this idea. It's only months later when I can finally put this story to rest. Enjoy?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Mabinogi or its characters. I own Merokin Etruir.  
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He supposed he could have hated her if he wanted to. It probably would have been the easiest thing he could do, with her frequent and strange confessions of love to him, and with his own frequent rejections. It may have been the simplest thing in the world, but he had never chosen to do so. All he would do was simply and gently tell her that it could never be right, that he could not fall in love with her because of what he was, and what she was. And then she had sung him a song.

Surely it had only been once or twice after that—three times at the most—when they would talk and his thoughts would stray to her flowing pink hair. To how nice it would feel to run his fingers through it, just to see if it was as soft as it looked. Perhaps his mind had also wandered after their battles, and wondered why he was just so resistant to be near her, and he would only use the spells that would take affect from so far away. Was it because he feared that if he touched her fair skin, then all of the silent strength he had built up would disappear? It could only have been a few times when he reached this idea before he shook it from his mind. Fool's thoughts.

But yet he continued to meet with her, and they battled and they talked and after awhile he would find himself yearned to smile at her, to speak with her of things other than the Fomors and their realm and how to fix things that would always be broken. She would answer his questions of course. And she would tell him that she was looking forward to next time, and would be ready for him. Ready to beat him, so he would accept her love. Many times he had thought her strange for that. Perhaps that was just the work of things for the Fomors. And time and time again he would be tempted to tell her that there wasn't going to be a next time. But Tarlach never did like to lie.

And then the unthinkable had happened. He entered the dungeon, he fought through the monsters. And she was not there. Had he dropped the wrong item? No. The path was the same. And for a moment, he panicked. Had one of her Fomor brethren or sisters decided there was no room for a Succubus who had lost her heart to a human?

Perhaps.

And as he left the dungeon, his insides feeling hollow and his outsides looking sullen, there she was. It had no taken long for him to realize that it was her, outside of the dungeon. That silken hair, those brilliant eyes. She was clad in black undergarments, not in her usual outfit. And something was off. Then, like a wave crashing upon the sea, it struck him full force. The wings were gone. She was a human.

How?

It had echoed many a time in his mind since he had first seen her there, scantily dressed and looking a daze. But he knew, he always knew. The Goddess, Morrighan. It wasn't hard to figure out, for on her arm, she bore the Goddess's mark. So he stood there, gawking like the fool he was as until she noticed him. And again she sang The Song of the Black Rose for him. She truly loved him.

Pointless logic roared in his mind. But all he knew was he wanted to hold her, to stroke her hair, to kiss her lips. To whisper in her ears that he had fallen in love with her too. But no, he couldn't. Admitting to love was the final, irrevocable act for a druid. Love was surrendering your power and living the rest of your life as a weak old man. The fear of all druids. But for a moment, he cared not. He loved her. And that realization swept over him like a lake of ice.

So he did what any poor, conflicted druid—what any poor, conflicted _man _would do. He ran.

And years later, as he sits in his ice tundra and listens to Merokin Etruir tell him of Kristell—her name, he had almost forgotten—and how she has become a servant of the Goddess, loyal to the holy woman who had saved her from living in darkness eternal as a Fomor. Then she tells him how his love refuses to help unless he comes to see her.

But alas, he cannot leave. For to leave would mean death, and he is not yet ready to die. In a few more years perhaps, if he sees her one last time. But not now. So he gives Merokin instructions that he feels she will never fully understand. But she completes them and Kristell complies. And the Goddess is saved once more.

But the druid in his castle—his prison—of ice stands quietly at night. During the day, the beast within him roars to the sky and mourns his love.

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**Review? You know you want to.**


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